Interrogation One
by kelmeister
Summary: Speculative one-shot scene based on sneak peeks one and two for 5x05, "Probable Cause." Castle inside Interrogation One.


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How long has it been? Four hours? Twelve? To be on this side of the table is...well, he knows very well how it is to be on this side of the table, doesn't he? He's been on the suspect side enough times in his life. Staring down Kate on the other side? This was match-up number two. But this...this is different. The stakes seem different. The odds are against him. He is innocent (oh, how many times he'd claimed innocence!), but literally no way to prove it without...

The door opens. Finally. His lawyer strides in with great purpose, although Rick thinks he's never handled anything more than a rote copyright infringement. His first murder trial. Sam must be so excited. Maybe, Rick thinks, he should hire someone else on retainer, just in case.

Sam slams his briefcase on the table. It thunks heavily against the steel and sends shock waves through Rick's clasped hands. "Mr. Castle," Sam says, brusquely.

"Sam, please." Rick opens his empty palms to Sam, pleading.

"Rick," Sam hisses, "what the hell is going on here?" He leans in dangerously close. "Couldn't you have just hijacked a pedicab or something?"

"Sam, I didn't do it." Now it's Rick's turn to hiss. "I'm appalled you'd think me capable—"

"Oh, cut the crap." Sam flops into the chair across from Rick. "I've seen what they have on you. You couldn't be guiltier if they'd caught you with a shoplifted candy bar shoved halfway down your throat."

"Nice." Rick huffs, wearily scrubs his face with both hands. With a harsh sigh, he throws himself forward in his chair. "Sam, I didn't do this. You know I didn't do this."

Sam leans forward. "Then prove it."

Rick's head falls. "I can't."

"Of course you can. Were you at the jewelry store?"

"Yes," Rick whispers.

"And were you there with the victim?"

"No—I don't know!" Rick's head snaps up. "They have pictures of us there, together, but I don't even remember her."

Sam raises his hands defensively. "Okay. What do you remember?"

"I was there. I was buying something. With a cashier's check. That's all true. But I wasn't there with Tessa, and I certainly wasn't buying it for her!"

"So who were you buying it for?"

Rick scrubs at his face again. "I can't tell you."

"Rick—"

"I can't tell you!" Rick jumps to his feet, slams his palms on the table. His palms sting, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

"Rick." Sam's voice is calming. He reaches forward with a hand. Rick notices Sam's nails are manicured, and wonders if it's his retainer that pays for that. A snort escapes, and Rick shakes his head, slowly lowering himself into his chair. "Rick, they can't hear us in here. It's attorney-client privilege. You have to tell me what you know, or I can't help you."

Rick looks into Sam's eyes, surprised at the genuine worry there. _How many times have I watched this exact scene play out from the other side of that glass? _He steals a glance, wonders if Kate is watching, or if she couldn't bear to witness his downfall and had to hide. He buries his head in his hands, runs his fingers through his hair, grabs tufts and pulls hard until tears spring to his eyes. _Oh, the impossible situation_.

"Detective Beckett—" Rick's whisper cracks over her name. "Detective Beckett and I are in a relationship." He waits for Sam to comment, alert for a sound of condemnation, but none comes. "We've been together for months. I was at the jewelry store to buy her a pair of earrings, a sort-of anniversary gift."

"Did she know about this?"

"No, it—it was a surprise." A stupid surprise. He clasps his hands on the table in front of him. "I barely remember Tessa—she was there, too. I didn't ask her name. She was there, looking at pieces. She asked me why I was there, asked my opinion on a couple of things." Rick shoots Sam a pained look. "I paid for my earrings and left. That was the last I saw of her, until the crime scene. Sam, it was so inconsequential," Rick squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head at the insensitivity of his words, "I didn't even recognize her."

Sam leans in. "Why haven't you told the police?"

"No one knows." Rick opens his eyes, pinches out a small smile. "The NYPD...they have rules. Kate is afraid if anyone finds out, we won't be able to work together." Rick chokes on a laugh at the irony.

"_No one _knows?"

"My mother and daughter. No one else."

Sam sighs, falls back in his chair, eyeing Rick warily. "You have the earrings and receipt?"

"At home, in my...office." Rick pauses, remembering the detectives converging around his no-longer secret hiding place, the look on Kate's face as her world was kicked out from under her, seeing earrings meant for her as evidence of something far more sinister. Oh, no.

Sam stands. Rick's eyes rise to meet his gaze. "I'll reexamine the evidence, based on what you've told me. But I think you're going to have to tell someone this, Rick. I get the sense that keeping this secret is very important, to both you and Detective Beckett. But Rick—" Sam leans in, the gravity of his words weighing heavily on Rick, "you're possibly looking at life here. Is she worth that?"

Rick scrubs at his face. He's never going to get the slime of this off of him. Never. He turns to the mirror, imagines he can see Kate on the other side, holding up cue cards directing him in what to do. _What do_ _I do, Kate?_ Rick huffs. _Is our secret worth all this?_

But as far as he knows, Kate isn't there. He crosses his arms and wearily rests his head, waiting for the escort back to his cell.

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Kate watches Castle from the observation room. All her energy goes toward not breaking down. The evidence tells her one thing, her heart another. A small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as she remembers the long-ago teasing she took for trusting her gut, but she trusts her gut. She trusts Castle.

His lawyer slowly exits Interrogation One and softly closes the door. He gives her a look she can't decipher. He approaches her, places a hand on her arm, pulls her close into his confidence.

"I could be disbarred for this," he whispers, "but you need to talk to him. You need to take yourself off the case, and talk to him." Castle's lawyer—Walsh? His eyes are boring a hole into her soul. "He's going to throw everything away for you. Everything." With a final look, he turns and follows an officer from the room.

Kate looks back at Castle's slumped form. Her fingers absently rub at her mouth. _What the hell are you doing, Castle? What the hell are we going to do?_


End file.
